Thunder rolls across the heavens, and a ball of black flame careens to the earth. It stops just above the world, and bursts in a cloud black feathers. A raccoon drops from the cloud, wearing a black robe. Upon one shoulder rests a single black wing. It folds, and fades. The raccoon looks up at the sky. "Why have you forsaken me, father!? Have I not done what you so wished!?" He received no response, and he decided it was for the best. The one winged angel walked on, his paw resting on the hilt of a sword.